


Under the stars

by Lyons



Category: South Park
Genre: Being Young and In Love, Group Therapy, High School AU, M/M, Parties, Slow Burn, Underage Drinking, Underage Smoking, nothing saucy, tweek is in a band
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-07
Updated: 2017-02-21
Packaged: 2017-12-14 04:45:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 21,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/832898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyons/pseuds/Lyons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Update: Gets better @Chapter 6<br/>Tweek and Craig both have some issues to work out. After Craig stopped talking to Tweek in the early years of middle school, Tweek has become a anxiety riddled recluse while Craigs' anger continues to grow; the two are forced to join together as partners in group therapy to help Tweek overcome his fears and to calm Craig down so he doesn't feel like brutally beating up everyone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

                The weather in South Park can only be described as the second most lonesome and depressive constant that the small town owns, the first being the rest of the town as an entity. South Park had a knack for sucking in poor souls who hoped to start a nice, normal family, a normal life; ending up as anything but. Once you were here, however, there was no leaving. You were stuck here. The children who were born here had grown in time with the grass, and as time had grown on, the weeds had grown in and trapped any form of a blossoming youth.  Some had dealt with it better than others, and it was uncertain if this was just a common teen thought. A fear that everything was for nothing and that the world beyond South Park was just too much bigger, too real compared to how their hometown was. It was like being trapped in a bubble, almost, safe from the outside and contained. Always the same.

                Craig Tucker, a student in his final year of high school, often thought about this. Often wondered the reality of the world around them, it seemed faux. He thought about it when he was lying on the roof of his house, cupping his guinea pig and staring at the night sky as the chill threatened to freeze him alive. He thought about it when he sat inside on dreary days when the sleet and rain just wouldn’t stop, when he was strumming absentmindedly on his acoustic guitar and staring out the window, imagining worlds better than the one he was in. But mostly, he thought of it when school had started up again and he had nothing else to think about. Where he was contained from the early hours of the morning to the wee hours of the afternoon. What was to happen when he graduated? Nothing. Nothing would change; it would always be the same.

                Craig was a known face in the disciplinary office, Mr. Mackey droning on and on from his violent outbursts from when he’d shout obscenities, throwing wicked blows towards anyone with a judging eye, even at those who didn’t. Sometimes he just needed a fight, needed something to do to remember that he was alive in a world of real people. That and it was great anger management, as far as he was concerned. He always had such a short fuse.

                “Craig, we can’t keep meeting like this. If you continue to cause many more disturbances, you will be punished further than just suspensions and detentions, the school may decide to expel you if this behavior doesn’t stop.” Mr. Mackey added a long and drawn out, ‘mmmkay’, for good measure.

                Craig merely responded with the flip of his finger, gaining a sigh from the counselor. “I’m going to sign you up for our group therapy sessions that meet Tuesdays and Thursdays. Maybe this will help work out your anger management, and it will serve better than sitting after school in the library.” Mr. Mackey pulled out a pamphlet with a cheesy group of white people laughing on the front, all holding hands in a circle in attempts to show the unity of group therapy. He snorted, shoving it carelessly in his back pocket as he headed out.

                “These meetings are not optional, you will be taken out during your third and sixth period classes on Tuesday and Thursday. Missing too many of the meetings will end in expulsion for people in your shoes, Mr. Tucker.” The rest of the rant fell on the fake wood of the door, heading back to class and thinking of how nice it would be to get a smoke during lunch. Maybe before. He’d have to think this over a bit more.

~*~

                The first meeting was the following day, Thursday during his seventh class- English literature. He did not want to go to these meetings, but he imagined that no one would want to. Who would want to be in a crowded room of your peers, letting them skin you with their eyes? And the teacher expecting it to have good results? Teachers were stupid; they really did not understand. Tweek, also a senior, battled many great anxieties and troubles that had plagued him since his elementary years. The Doctors’ said it would be something he’d grow out of. Things would get better. Instead, things had gotten worse. Tweek could not bear to talk in class, and at this point most of the class would have thought he was incapable of saying anything other than one of his awkward verbal tics.  This was true. He tried to shut himself down to the corners of his mind, to control every hasty jitter and each unintentional grunt of discomfort.

                The bullies had grown to enjoy him, they liked to poke and prod whenever the teachers weren’t watching or when the administrators were more preoccupied with other things. They lived to humiliate him, to draw attention to the areas he found the most embarrassing and then blame any following outburst on his ‘freakiness’. As far as they could see, they had done nothing wrong. Movies had taught them that it had to be someone, and so it was them and him. And any other kid with any insecurity that was obvious. They teased- though really, tease is too gentle of a word for what they did- that he was gay, stupid, distorted, that no one would like him. By the time first bell rang, he was ready to shrink in to his locker for security.

                This had started in fifth grade and snowballed through middle school, but by junior year most of them were done except for when they had a particularly bad morning. Nonetheless, Tweek was tattered from their abuse. His shoulders were hunched and his eyeline never rose from his shoes or a book, every morning he would wake up and do his best to avoid mirrors- anything reflective, really, to not be reminded of how he looked. Of how he could not tame the beast that was his hair, how he had shadows that kissed under his eyes to make up for the lack of sleep- how hideous it was and how he wished he could let his body relax to where they would disappear. Not to mention, all of the coffee had since stunted his growth and the Doctor had said it was highly unlikely he’d grow any more. He was stuck. Stuck in South Park, stuck in the coffee shop on the weekends, stuck in a war zone that was supposed to better him for the future, and more importantly, stuck inside.

                Luckily, early in to their junior year it had gradually lessened. He had stopped squeaking and yelling for anyone to help him, he no longer cared. He would be yanked around by filthy hands and his eyes would instantly go dead, his mind in distant lands while his body had taken the torture. A broken toy is no fun, and they had started to move on. Tweek couldn’t move on, though. He was always expecting, always waiting. So he remained quiet and jittering, murmuring things under his breath and sometimes squeaking, going from home to school to home again, his part time job the only other place he would dare go. 

                Back to present, he was now faced with an unfamiliar door in an unfamiliar hallway that he thought was no longer being used. His breathing stopped as his throat closed, hand shaking and hovering over top of the handle. He didn’t know who would be in there, and he was tired of being made fun of and being forced to talk. He contemplated this, heart rate intensify and slinking down next to the door. Hands knotted themselves in his locks, eyes tightly shut and shoulders heaving. He couldn’t do this, and he didn’t want to.  He raised his gaze from his knees, glancing at red converses and dark jeans, aware of him the moment his shadow didn’t move from above him.

                “Uh, are you waiting to go in, or…” He voice was nasally and deep, and he could hear the awkwardness of it all. His old friend Craig, well not anymore. They hadn’t spoken since elementary after he became known as a social pariah. Tweeks’ tics had been cool until they didn’t stop. Then they were embarrassing, he was embarrassing. Tweek squeaked involuntarily and quickly pushed himself up to his feet, yanking open the door and muttering fast paced apologies for holding him up as it slammed against the wall. Those within the room noticeably quieted at the commotion. Shit. This was already not going well.

 


	2. Chapter 2

                The rooms’ center was clear, all of the desks pushed up to the wall except for a half circle of chairs pointing towards a larger chair, presumably for the counselor. Craig was able to scan the group and move at the same time whereas Tweek was virtually frozen with his hands pulling at his shirt until Mr. Mackey cleared his throat and gestured for him to sit in any of these fine, single chairs. With stiff legs and slumped shoulders he took long strides to the closest vacant seat, stuck between a few of the goth kids. His jumpy antics had returned full on, hands covering his mouth and staring at his lap: trying to remember his happy place. It took so little for him to feel like this.

                “Our last members have arrived. I will first introduce myself. I am Mr. Mackey and I will be in charge of group counseling for this year. Here in group therapy you’ll work in pairs pre-designed based on your social and mental short comings in order to work towards a better you.” He paused to loosen his tie, clearing his throat and crossing his legs at the ankle. “But first we’ll go in order and you all can introduce yourselves.” He pointed to Henrietta who was sitting on the end to start. What followed next was the most miserable onslaught of speech to fall on any ears. She started off with her name but when asked about her problems it went straight in to an autobiographical novel she seemed to have memorized on cue. As if she was just waiting for the opportunity.

                “…And that was when my father divorced my crazy hack of a mom and left me here in South Park while he runs around in California with sun bleached 20 year old bimbos.” She let out a puff of air from her lips, as if smoking an imaginary cigarette to calm down, brushing back her long black bangs.

                “Well that was very interesting, Henrietta, how about for times’ sake we just uh, get in the pairs I assigned to you and instead talk to them. Once you get in pairs, discuss why you’re here. Then you should all choose an after school activity like a sport or club to join to help you both work out your problems together.” He stood and passed around some pamphlets that included talking topics and a list of activities to do. “Alright, Henrietta you’ll be with Georgie, Ethan will be with David, and Tweek will be with Craig.” He sat back with his clipboard to jot down notes on how the meeting was going so far.

                The air squeezed out of Tweek, hastily twirling his fingers in his hair and pulling the locks unhappily. Neither Craig nor Tweek moved, instead just sitting there until it looked like Mr. Mackey was about to come up and talk to Craig, in which Craig immediately switched seats closer to Tweek. Tweek was rambling something softly under his breath, Craig going unnoticed.

                Craig coughed, “Alright, soooo, uh, this group thing….” He started, skimming the front of the booklet and flipping it open to the first page to avoid unnecessary eye contact.

                 “I guess we should look in to activities or something, right?” Craig asked, Tweek sucking in a deep breath and nodding. He shakily removed his hands from his head, fingers fumbling with the crisp glossy paper; unable to open it and giving in. Craig watched in a dulled sense of pity, one where he sort of felt bad but not really since he also did not care. At all. So instead he decided to look back at the list. Picking the first one his eyes went to.

                “How about wrestling?” Tweek grunted in response and nodded all too fast. With that, Craig slipped the papers away. That was easy, already they had their activity. Rather than sit in silence, he went up to Mr. Mackey, “Tweek and I are doing wrestling. Can I go now?”  The counselor looked up from his current cross word puzzle.

                “Mmm, have you both shared why you were here and made goals? I haven’t heard your partner say anything to you since you went over.”

                “He did, he’s just very quiet.” A quick lie that came all too easy, harmless. Mr. Mackey was about to bring up that this was a highly unlikely situation when another voice entered the conversation.

                “It’s true Mr. Mackey, we finished so could we- please- go back to class now.” Tweek fidgeted under his stare.

                “Well I suppose so. I’ll sign you and Mr. Tucker up for wrestling and have the coach make sure you’re actually there. Practice has already been going on for a month but I’m sure that the coach won’t mind a couple of late wrestlers popping in tomorrow. You’re both dismissed to your classes.”

                Tweek released a sigh of relief; something Craig didn’t think was possible. Tweek getting handed a single pass, which made sense, to go back to woodshop. What didn’t make sense was that Craig was on there too. Guess they shared classes and he didn’t even notice. He made a noise similar to the soft whine of a puppy; he just wanted to get away from him. Not walk him to class! They left on a journey to class, standing on opposite sides of the hall.

                “Do you think we could stop by the E-hallway exit? I really need a smoke, and if you go in before me it’ll look suspicious.” Craig was already getting out his pack, reaching in his pocket for a lighter.

                “Uhn, okay,” And so they took a detour to the south side of the building and sat outside the back door, Tweek  pressed firmly against the building and Craig taking long drags, holding his breath once the smoke was in his mouth before exhaling slowly.

                “Forgot to ask, do you want one? You don’t look like you smoke, but…”

                “No, dude, smoking’s gross.” Tweek shrunk back against the wall, making a face. “If I wanted to die young I would have just- hn- taken all of my medication at once already.” Craig waved his hand as to shoo off the comment.

                “It might actually help calm your nerves.” He said, flicking off the ashes, “If I wanted to die I would be doing more than just smoking cigarettes. There are worse things.”

                “That doesn’t change the fact that it smells disgusting.” Tweek was surprised he could even speak this much to someone he hadn’t spoken to in years, especially having gone so long without a conversation from an outside source- not his parents or from the customers at his job. It was almost sort of comfortable, but scary at the same time.

                Craig sucked in some smoke, tipping the cigarette away and leaning over. He blew a jet stream of smoke at his companion, letting out loose laughter that shifted in to a spell of heavy coughing. Tweek snorted and shoved his shoulder roughly, coughing and cupping his nose and mouth with his hands.

                “You’re such an asshole.” Something about it was funny, though, and he too started to laugh weakly, grinning behind the safety of his hands. Craig regained control of his hacking, spitting out a pent up loogie and lips barely quirking to a smile. He finished his cig and stomped on the stub to make sure it was out, holding the door open for him.

“After you.”

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it would, again, be lovely to get any comments over all to know how it is? c:


	3. Chapter 3

                Tweek and Craig didn’t speak after that, there was no reason to. Craig had his friends and Tweek preferred to stay as far from his peers as possible. If it could talk, he wanted nothing to do with it, too much stress attached to it. He’d rather sit in the front where no one would even try to. The final bell rang, kids leaving either for sports or to start off their weekend school free. Which is what he would be doing if it weren’t for wrestling practice. He gripped the straps of his backpack, nearly wheezing from the nerves. He’d have to touch people, people would be touching him, and ugh even worse was… there would be sweat. He shuddered and twitched more aggressively the closer he got, once the stench of the locker room hit his nostrils. Why did guys smell so disgusting? He could almost bet his entire supply of coffee that the girls’ locker rooms were not this disgusting. Not by a longshot.

                He pressed himself against the wall and monorailed it to the bathroom stalls, locking it and changing hurriedly only to find out his shirt was on inside out. This caused him to bang against the plastic green dividers during the struggle until he was victorious, slipping out of the stall with his bag and dropping it against a section of vacant lockers. He didn’t keep many valuables with him and it weighed about three quarters of his weight, so he was without fear that someone would actually steal it.  He adjusted his navy blue basketball shorts, retying the knot a tad tighter and making sure the cuffs of his tshirt weren’t flipped up before bracing himself for the brightly lit gym, where people’s sneakers were squeaking against the shiny floor and practice mats were being set out. His eyes flickered around, recognizing a few faces but not enough to where the urging nausea in his stomach would leave him be. The more urgent matter at hand was that Craig was not there, each passing second causing him to lose control over his ticking habits of twitching violently. What if Craig would not be coming, and now that he was here he couldn’t leave? Trapped forever in an uncomfortable situation of forced bodily contact.

                He watched as others started to stretch. Practice was beginning, and he had been let down once again, made a fool of. He should have figured it out. He solemnly stared at the Velcro of his shoes, hesitantly sitting on the floor and going in to a butterfly stretch. He leaned forward until his hair was near brushing against the floor, breathing in through the nose and out through the mouth. He’d need to get as calm as possible if he were to make it through the next few hours. His shoulders sagged in a relaxing state, until the scuffle of shoes stopped beside him. He tensed, whipping his head up.

                “You’re late.” He announced curtly, teeth pulling at his chapped lips.

                “I had something to do.” Craig sighed, staring down at him from half lidded eyes. The quietness returned, not yet a comfortable and easing one. “Did I miss very much?” He asked to keep the small talk going, the answer not mattering as much as the vanishing of silence did. He decided to mimic Tweeks’ stretches.

                “No, not yet.” And that was it, and this time when the quiet came Craig focused on stretches to occupy his mind and push out the clumsiness of their social skills. The roar of a whistle came next.

                “Okay kids, go get the sparring gear on and we’ll do a few practice rounds or whatever.” The coach shrugged, teens moseying over to the equipment rack.

                “I’ll get us the equipment if you get us a mat.” Craig said, dismissing without giving a chance for argument. He was going to try and prolong this as much as he could. He had been in a fight with Tweek when they were younger, and practically the same size. He had done good back then, they were probably more evenly matched, but now during the years of puberty he was almost betting that a fly could pin Tweek down. He hadn’t really grown from middle school in terms of height. Craig was still growing though, already above average and while he wasn’t overweight he was definitely average. Tweek found them a nice mat, and Craig took his time going over, handing him one of the helmets. He figured his own out with no issues, Tweek on the other hand happened to have a lot of them.

                “Do you… maybe want me to…” Craig furrowed his eyebrows, hoping that things wouldn’t always be this uneasy. During the end of their pre-class smoking experience he appeared to have loosened up a bit. Now it was like he was standing on a mouse trap that was about to snap at any second.

                “Ugh, yeah. Please.” Tweek tip toed over and let Craig take the lead, quivering as his messy blonde locks were pushed back to fit correctly, noting the care that was taken so that way none of his hair would be pinched in the clips. How thoughtful. Once that was all set in place, he took a few steps back. It was almost comical how much he vibrated, it wouldn’t be long before he was shaking so hard that he’d be virtually unseeable from the naked eye. Craig glanced around to see how these things started, but he supposed it didn’t really matter since they weren’t doing this for serious. It was only because of that group therapy bs.  Without speaking they both moved to their edges of the mat respectively, “Should we just start now?”

                “Uh, yeah, I guess.” Craig copied a stance he saw someone else doing, Tweek rather doing something similar but where Craigs’ was weak and lazy, his was a tad stronger.  They stood there for a few minutes, until the coach came over, thankfully.

                “Tweek Tweak and Craig Tucker, Mr. Mackey has sent you here for his… sessions… So I’ll show ya the basics. First, opening position is a bit like this.” He went in to a squat. “And then ya both charge. Its’ free game from there, I don’t care whatcha do. Just know after three seconds on the ground yer out.”  Coach went on to the next mat.

                Tweek truly took the advice to heart, Craig not so much. Craig, after much reluctance, counted down from three and went in, planning on gently pushing him on to the ground or maybe just allowing him to struggle a bit before falling on to the ground in defeat. The response to him going for his waist, though, had an unanticipated outcome. Tweek shrieked in terror, grabbing Craig roughly and practically flipping him on the ground, hands holding his shoulders in place, muttering apologies.

                “One two three.” And with that he relented, jumping off and struggling to get on his feet. He was breathing heavy in the freaked sort of way, not in the out of breath and exhausted sense. His partner laid there, stunned.

                “Wow. Um, okay.” Without much more they reset positions, the process being a bit different each time. However the outcome was always the same, Tweek being the victor. Craig just thought it was his body getting back at him for all those nights spent on the couch gaming and pigging out. By the tenth round, both were out of breath and slicked in body sweat.

                “I, should have told you, that I take classes sometimes or I used to.” He wheezed, hunched over with his hands on his knees.

                “Oh, that would make sense. Would you like to maybe take a break and get a drink or something…” Craig panted and fanned himself.

                “Yea,” they stepped out of the gym, the air a lot cooler than in there, taking turns at the fountain. Tweek found himself sitting back against the wall, this time not in panic.

                “Do you feel any… less anxious?” Craig asked, running a hand through his soaked hair. Gross.

                “I guess so.” He shrugged, “Are you any less angry?” This made him snort and chuckle, Tweek shrinking slightly but forcing himself to be bold. “That’s the reason why you’re here, right? Because you’re always in fights and cussing people out and flipping them off.” He reasoned, eyes snapping open when he was yanked to his feet with his head knocking against the wall.

                “I don’t have anger issues.” Craig stated bluntly. Tweek coughed; the tremors back.

                “This situation would say otherwise.” He wasn’t sure where this odd bit of bravery came from, but immediately he regretted it not fast enough, however, a fist meeting his cheek. He shut his eyes, taking the hits; he was used to being a punching bag. Something inside of him broke, only in an entirely new way. Usually when he broke he shut down, but this time he was cut up with anger. He was tired of everything. Craig stopped talking to him because of some dumb comments rather than sticking around like a true friend, most of everyone who met him found him to be particularly useless and even more considered him to be weak and worthless. Well he wasn’t.

                Tweek released a sort of primal wail, shoving Craig off with force mostly driven by passion, slamming him against the tile and letting loose. Unlike Craig he was not confined to straight punches, no, Tweek also scratched and slapped and did every type thing he could think of.

                “You think you have the right to hit ME? You left ME Craig when everyone was saying I was do you think you’re the only one who hurts!” He spit, sitting on his chest and trapping Craig beneath him. “Well you’re not but your head is so far up your ASS that you don’t even NOTICE. When people are trying to be nice to you at least you HAVE friends at least you aren’t scared of getting jumped or made fun of when you go out! I can’t even leave the house without people ALWAYS STARING! And thinking because I don’t fight back I’m WEAK well I’m NOT!” His hits slowed down, “You aren’t forced to be alone, you make yourself that way. No one even wants to hang out with a freak…”

                Tweeks’ shoulders heaved, his hands falling limply now on Craigs’ face. They were both pretty tattered at this point, Craig more so than he, and he was falling down from his adrenaline reached high, the guilt settling in. No, he thought over, he shouldn’t feel bad because Craig had started it. Craig was the one who started it, and it was merely self-defense… With some extra. Tweek stood, heading towards the gym with the intent on leaving after he got his things. He had hit a new emotional low where he did not care for the consequences of leaving without full time served for that ridiculous group therapy, nor that he lived too far away from the school for it to be a couple minute walk. He slipped in to the locker room, picking up his book bag and slinging it over his shoulders, which were sore from being thrown against a wall. The door opened,

                “Tweek, are you in here?” He asked, peeking around through swollen eyes. “Uh, do you maybe want a ride home?” Apologizing was not his forte.


	4. Chapter 4

                 The coloring of the bruises were now settling in, Tweek firmly pressed back against the seat of Craigs’ truck and squeezing his school bag to his stomach. His lip had been cracked and his left cheek was now the color of dulled green He had gotten off easy, Craig’s face was a total mess. There was a slightly crusted dribble of blood from one of his nostrils, both of his eyes shadowed with purple and scratch marks at his neck.  The more Tweek looked over, the further the guilt got to him, festering in his stomach and making him feel nauseas.

                “I’m, hhh, sorry.” He whispered under his breath, squeezing in tighter. Craig just grunted, shrugging it off. They stopped in front of a green two story house and Craig pressing the unlock button, watching his partner struggle against the confines of the seat belt until finally getting free. He hurriedly turned to get out, hand on the handle until Craig pressed the child lock, leaving him to smash his face in to the passenger window.

                “Dick.” He muttered, pulling back and rubbing his face.

                “Couldn’t resist.” Craig hit unlock again, this time letting Tweek out. “Hey, what are you doing this weekend?” He called out, Tweek shutting the door and walking around to Craigs’ window.

                “Nn, well, nothing really. I might be working Saturday night though, till nine.” His eye twitched a little, “

Uh, do you wanna do something?” The idea alone made his insides squeamish and his head feel fuzzy.

                “Maybe.”

                There was a moment of tense silence before Tweek made a noise similar to a car letting out a gush of air. “Don’t forget to put on ice before your eyes swell shut.” He reminded. Craig nodded, letting Tweek shuffle awkwardly in to his home before driving off. What a mess.

                Craig got home to the sound of his mother and sister having another famous shout match, sneaking in to the kitchen to fill a baggie of ice cubes before making it up the steps at top speed, shutting the door to his room. His room was thoroughly cleaned and orderly for once. He had a nice bed that was made so the sheets were correctly tucked in and without wrinkle, his desk was well organized as was the stacks of cds he had set beside it, and his guitar case was leaning upright against the wall. He tossed off his hat, changing in to sweats and admired his wounds in the mirror. Tweek really knew how to inflict the most damage he could on a guy, so why did he never try to fend for himself on a normal basis? He contemplated this while taking out his acoustic and laying down in his bed, closing his eyes and plopping the sack of ice cubes over the lids. He absentmindedly tugged at the strings, letting them vibrate against his fingertips.  As much as he didn’t want to admit it, this group therapy thing might actually be worth his time. It had gotten him to think in different ways already, though he wasn’t sure if he liked that. His mind roamed in to its imagination zone, daydreaming different ideas.

                He could always call up Clyde for video games, invite Token over too. He could also try to go to a party, but that all seemed so old. He was craving something new, struck with the idea that he was young. He should be out experiencing things, exploring the uncertain and going wild. His heart even skipped a beat at the thought, but he knew he probably wouldn’t do anything out of the ordinary. He was a recluse; he didn’t do much other than lay at home and stare at walls while working out new rhythms. Time went on; the ice cubes took to the warmth of his face until it was a pool of water, the orange and red sunlight tinting the water until it left completely. It was replaced with the artificial orange of the street lamps. He sat up, setting his instrument aside and taking the useless ice pack down stairs. Creeping down slowly and making sure the yelling was over. Once the coast was clear, he made it down completely to see they had made up, his parents and sister watching television together. His sister more so on the laptop than anything, but she was there, which was more than he was. He dumped the water in to the sink, tossing out the bag and browsing the cabinet selection for dinner. The instant mac and cheese looked exceptionally good tonight, yes, he would have that. He set it in the microwave, lost in thought again. It was the weekend, he had a truck and he had gas- he could go anywhere. The microwave beeped and he took it out, stirring it with a fork.  

                That night ended quickly, Saturday morning switching in to Saturday evening followed by the night. Craig waited no sooner to stop his instrumental meddling, packing up slowly, grabbing a drawstring bag filled with two towels and a change of shorts and heading to his truck. He was in no hurry, he wasn’t even sure if his plan would work or not, but he had prepped for it the night prior. It would be a long weekend, too, some holiday. That left them four days, although now it was more like three. He left a note for his family, explaining the situation. He hopped on in, throwing his bag in the passenger seat and driving towards Moonrise Cafe. Contrary to popular belief that Craig felt nothing but anger and apathy, he was actually really nervous, anxious even, shifting in to park and watching a wild haired teen hang up his apron before locking the front door and testing a few times to make sure it was actually locked.

                “Tweek!” Said boy jumped, dropping the keys.

                “Urgh, Craig, what’re you doing here-” He pulled at his hair, flustered.

                “I was bored and I needed something to do.” He pressed his lips together in a line for a moment before speaking up again, “I was going to go somewhere and I was wondering if you’d be interested in coming along.”

                “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, uh, where and for how long?” Tweek started to make his way over when Craig motioned for him to get in, doing just that.

                “Just somewhere fun and new. I promise it won’t be anywhere weird, besides after yesterday I know not to test you. You’re pretty good at fighting, you know. Also you might want to pack an overnight bag, or two, just in case.” Craigs’ insides were doing flips, hoping Tweek went along with it. He didn’t know him that well, but he figured it would be fun- and it would only be a few days if he did say yes.  Tweek was quiet, weighing the idea.

                “If you can promise to get me home before school and that this isn’t a trick, then yeah. I guess… I’ll go…” He trembled. Craig could still smell the coffee stench wafting off of him, pulling up to his house.

                “Alright, I’ll give you ten minutes. Maybe pack a bathing suit, just in case.” He unlocked the doors, Tweek darting out and disappearing inside the house.

                Tweek was a mess, hurriedly shoving clothes and all the other necessities in to a sleepover bag, deciding to refill his thermos with some coffee. There was always a pot brewing at the Tweak household. He too wrote a scratchy note, saying he’d be staying with Craig and he’d be home before school. They wouldn’t really care; they’d probably be rejoicing that he was out with a friend. With two minutes to spare, he clambered in to Craigs’ car, heaving and readjusting the seat belt. Once that was settled he took an exceptionally shaky drink of coffee and attempted to relax while Craig shifted gears.

                What was once nine became midnight, and they were still on the road. A highway, actually. Tweek had noted the time but paid no mind until the sun started to greet them. Then he was a little bit freaked out.

                “Oh god, where are we going, Craig? Where are you taking me?” He had finished his coffee supply, including the backup cup and was now folded in half, knotting his fingers in his hair and pulling them.       

                “I thought we’d go to the beach, or something.” He shrugged.

                “But South Park doesn’t have a beach. Colorado doesn’t have a beach.” He started to hyperventilate. “Where are we going?” He began to make moaning and groaning sounds, rocking.

                “Tweek- relax- we’re just going to go to a beach, this is going to sound really stupid,” He paused, “But it’s only about fourteen or fifteen hours to California and besides we’re almost there. Well halfway. It’d be stupid- well more stupid- to turn around now, so please don’t freak out.”

                “Craig I’ve never been to California, I’ve never been out of this state, why would you do that, oh JESUS what if something bad happens- where will we stay? oh GOD.” Tweek was dragging his stubby finger nails against his arms, head in between his legs. Taking deep breaths.

                “Yeah, but we can just stay in my truck and it’ll only be for the weekend. It’ll be fine.” Craig tried to think of things he could say to lessen the blow. Never been out of South Park? That must’ve sucked. “Just think you’ll get to see your first beach or something. And uh, the ocean. You haven’t seen the ocean right?”

                Tweek stopped his mumblings, lifting his head to shake it no.

                “Okay, great, you’ll see the ocean for the first time. It’ll be fun.” Craig tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “Also, it’s a good time to sleep now. If you want to. Do you even sleep?”

                “I… don’t really sleep too well.” Craig merely nodded.

                “I have a cd case if you feel like flipping through and picking something. It’s on the side pocket thing.” He made a gesture, thoroughly distracting Tweek with the task. Good. They drove for a while in silence, stopping at a McDonalds to pick up some coffee for both Tweek and himself, getting an extra-large Iced Tea as well. Those things were loaded with sugar and always made him feel jumpy and awake, which was great when Tweek started to doze off with his cheek pressed to the window as to not tempt him. Just a few more hours and they would be there.


	5. Chapter 5

                Tweek moved and made a lot of noise in his sleep. If he weren’t buckled in he would have likely been rolling everywhere. Thankfully they were. Time had started to run together for Craig, the sun now perched high in the sky and his eyes showing signs of sleeplessness that he was used to seeing on others. If anything he slept too much. He got off the interstate and it wasn’t very far off before they made it to a public beach at around ten thirty in the morning, sliding in to park and turning off the engine. He sat back, letting out a heavy sigh, picking up the half empty pack of cigarettes and debating before putting them away. He didn’t mind driving but that was almost too much he didn’t know if he wanted to get up and move around or sleep... He checked Tweek, surprised he was still resting and further amused that he was curled tight in a ball and actually comfortable. Didn’t that hurt his neck? Well, they were here now. Time to wake up. He cleared his throat,

                “Tweek, we’re here.” And just like that he snapped up, hair seeming a bit more wild than normal. He squinted until he adjusted to the light, alarmed by how bright everything was. It was even hotter over here. The groaning returned and he folded himself back in half, arms over his head protectively.

                “I don’t know why I let you take me here,” He hated being new places with people he didn’t know. “What if I get sunburn? What if I die of heat exhaustion? What if there are sharks in the water and” Everyone would be watching him. A shark could just snap him in half; he could even fry himself to death.

                “There are sharks everywhere, Tweek. And not everyone gets bitten. More people die in car crashes than by a shark and we’ve been in a car for about fifteen hours, no crashes or anything. And I brought sunblock.” It was hotter here, thankfully not as humid as the east coast. He took off his sweat shirt, thankful for short sleeves. And grabbing his draw string bag from earlier. “Grab your swim suit and we’ll get changed over there unless you don’t mind getting soaked in those clothes.” Tweek reluctantly did so, clutching his green tartan swim trunks but not willing himself to move. Craig sighed, getting out and opening the door for him, offering a hand to avoid any nervous spills on to the asphalt. He was not going to be leaving as soon as they got here over some scrapes.

                Tweek stayed a tad closer than usual on their way to the changing stalls, probably because Craig was the only constant here with him at this time, the only other part of South Park remaining with him. He was ushered to the nearest changing stall, giving it a weary glance over.

                “Don’t worry I’ll stay outside so no one breaks in…” Craig murmured, already able to tell where his frantic mind was going. Tweek pulled the curtain, changing hurriedly in to a black spare shirt he had brought that was surprisingly faded with a bands logo on the front. It was different then his normal button up, he usually saved it for indoor occasions like lazy weekends and sleeping. He scrunched up his clothes, bringing them to Craig who took them and shoved them in to the bag before taking his turn in the changing stall, coming out roughly the same. They walked silently to the beach, Tweek a half step behind so he could do appropriate following. It reminded Craig of a ghost. Craig stopped to take off his slip ons, stepping in to the plush sand. Tweek just made a face.

                “You don’t wear socks??” He furrowed his eyebrows. That was pretty gross. “But don’t your feet smell or get sweaty?” He kept his shoes on, not caring for the sinking feeling or wanting to feel the dirty sand on his toes. Now that he thought about it, the ocean could be filled with millions of disgusting things such as fish sperm, human sperm, waste, body sweat, anything.

                “Nah, it’s easier this way. You should probably take yours off too, unless you want sand in your shoes.” Once they were a reasonable distance from the waves, Craig dropped the bag and sat. Tweek hovering beside him and twitching.

                “There could be all kinds of germs on this sand. It is California…”

                “Yeah but there’s probably the same amount of germs in the air, and besides we’ve already come this far.” Craig took out a cigarette and lit it, finding this to be the perfect scenery for a smoke. Oddly enough, Tweek could see a slight amount of sense in it. Plus being so far from his home left him feeling… strange. Like he could do anything. Just like Craig had been trying to do when he planned this stupid trip, but he wasn’t about to indulge that thought completely. He supposed taking off his shoes couldn’t cause much harm, though. It wasn’t a completely reckless idea.  He worked to untie the triple knotted laces, slipping his socks in to the shoes and letting his toes touch the warm sand. He wiggled them slowly, eyebrows furrowed and in focus. Not bad. He lowered his fingers, letting the sand sink through the spaces between his fingers. It was almost therapeutic, like rubbing your hand against an unevenly textured wall. Because of this Tweek was in a momentary trance of picking up sand and letting it drip down, Craig rubbing the butt of his cigarette in to the sand and bringing him out of it.

                “You should probably stop smoking,.” Tweek stated, not looking away from his hands.

                “You aren’t going to give me some sort of speech about how my life is worth something and that I have so much to look forward to, right? Because I’ve already”

                “That would imply that I liked you enough for you to not smoke yourself to death I just don’t want my ride home to become incapable. You can start smoking when we get and safe.” He interrupted, giving a quirky grin. Craig was a bit shocked for such snark, before smirking shallowly and nodding. They sat under the sun, Craig pulling out a bottle of sunscreen from the bag, handing it to Tweek who applied it quite liberally, ignoring the few warnings that he gave about melanoma and sun cancer.

                “Do you want to, maybe, swim?” The blonde asked, his rising curiosity getting the better of him. Could you feel the salt in oceans? Was it colder than a pool? He watched Craig with quivering eyes, not having the guts to go in alone. If there was a shark he would need someone to sacrifice, same for seaweed monsters and other treacherous things.

                Craig groaned, shrugging and getting up. It was the beach; he should have been prepared for this. But for some reason he never put it together that Tweek would actually want to swim. They left their things in a small bundle, tiptoeing nearer to the edge. Craig was the first to touch the water, letting Tweek know that it was safe, who started to inch in. He was feeling particularly brave, going up to the knees. He looked over his shoulder; waving for him to come in, follow. Reluctantly, he did, standing stiffly while Tweek lowered his hands and began to swirl them in the water, staying behind when his friend began to submerge deeper. He hadn’t even noticed Craig had stayed behind until the water was up in to his midsection, choosing to float on his back and drifting towards him. It felt pleasant and almost dreamy, not bareass chilly as Stark’s pond did.

                “Why did you stay back here?” He twitched awfully this time, slapping a hand over his neck and rubbing it as if to say ‘stop that’.

                “Just don’t really feel like swimming. You can if you want, but I’ll stay back here.”

                “You drove like, sixteen hours, and you aren’t even going to swim?” Tweek furrowed his eyebrows. That was just silly. To come all this way and not even partake in such a beautiful experience… Craig shrugged again, seeming a bit uncomfortable and distant with the topic. He hunched down so he’d be closer to his ear level, glancing from side to side as if there may be eaves droppers afoot.

                “I’m not the best at swimming.” He admitted, “If you want to swim I can just watch from here, it’s no big deal.” Regardless he took a few more steps deeper, as long as he didn’t go too far in he’d be fine, it wasn’t like it would be one giant overwhelming drowning experience, and the waves here were pretty tame. More like speed bumps then anything. Tweek decided to keep swimming, making sure he was no more than five feet away from Craig in case of emergency. Floating in this way made him feel like an otter. His usual jitters weren’t even as intense, interestingly enough they had ceased completely while he paddled circles around him. Craig snorting. Weirdo. They stayed here for a while, Tweek in the hundreds with the amount of laps he had completed. Eventually Craig got hungry, however, and Tweek realized he hadn’t eaten much for about a day. They chose to sharing fries on the boardwalk, wandering around and making idle chit chat. Most of it was small stuff, like Tweek talking about how the weather here was much more desirable than in their hometown, and Craig agreeing. When the sun began to grow weary, they turned around to head towards the truck. By this point, Craig had shoved his chullo back on his head and was growing immensely tired from having not slept. Tweek was nearing the same feeling, only more from the social exhaust of their entire escapade. They met the truck, the two climbing in and Craig grumbling as he was forced to drive a little further south, passing a sign with some corny looking name scrawled on it, something about sun and happy probably.

                They were slowly entering a lightly wooded area, a few campfires and flashlights showing numerous people in tents and Vans, presumably camping out. Craig continued to drive around until he saw a free spot, backing in. He grabbed a flashlight from under the seat and hopped out, making sure it was indeed a camping slot and that he had pulled in correctly, lifting up the back of the truck and revealing a mattress covered in floral sheets. A few knit blankets that had been folded earlier had rolled off to the side. He went back around front, nudging Tweek who raised his head, dazed and confused.

                “We’re here.”

                “Nnn… Where?” He sat up, rubbing his tired eyes and lifting his back up in to his lap.

                “A camp site. I have a mattress in the back if you feel like using it. I could sleep up here unless you wanted to.” His voice was flatter than usual, hoping to get right to the point with this. “And if you plan on wearing pajamas I suggest you change in here, there’s no changing rooms unlike the beach.” He stepped away, letting Tweek decide and hand instinctively going for his lighter before withdrawing. He generally didn’t care if someone wanted him to stop smoking, if he wanted to quit he would. But Tweek would likely have a fit, assuming he had any energy left in him, and he wasn’t willing to test that. Tweek snuck up behind him, donning purple plaid pajama pants and a band tee that had quite a number of holes in it. He poked Craig in the sides, making him jump and curse. A lazy smile forming, eyelids drooping and surrounded in gray circles. He ran a hand through his knotted hair.

                “If you want to share the mattress, I don’t mind. Usually, I’d think it was gross, but I’m too sleepy to… care.” He yawned between words, stretching. “Besides, it’s your truck… When was the last time you cleaned the sheets?”

                Craig leaned against the side of the vehicle. “Today er yesterday… whatever it was before we left. Go and get comfortable, I guess, I’ll come back in a sec.” He climbed in the front, checking everything. The gages, windows, double checking for keys, and then shuffling to the back where Tweek was already cocooned in one of the blankets, taking up the tiniest amount of space he could on one side. He pushed himself up, untying his shoes and shimmying out of his pants. Tossing them off to the side of the bed and shutting the back halfway once inside. He laid on his back, grabbing the extra blanket he brought and staring out the small, tinted windows. The skies here were so clear at night. Well, they were in South Park too, but when you were away from the streets it was definitely more noticeable. He rolled on his side, assuming Tweek was asleep and spacing off. After all this time of wanting to dream, of course it was now he was riddled in thought. Wondering why he was here, what he was trying to prove, and why he would choose to go with Tweek. He could have taken Clyde or Token or any of his other friends, but instead he picked a kid who had beaten him terribly in a fight he thought he would win. He wasn’t unhappy with it, though. He was happy it was like this. Weird, generally he was apathetic about how things played out, but he was really pleased to be sharing a mattress in the back of a dusty car, hundreds of miles from the things that stressed him out most. When he began to drift off, he became faintly aware that there was a soft, occasional jerk to the bed. Noting he wasn’t actually asleep but too far gone to go more in to it. Tweek had been watching the sky with him, apparently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've been a little sick so it'd be wonderful to have feedback if something didn't make any sense or anything. may also be a bit of time before i can get to the next chapter u - u;;;


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while. if anyone reads this, please comment

Tweek hurled his body up from the mattress at roughly 8 in the morning, the snappy movement causing the truck to sway. What caused Craig to wake up however, was the loud wheeze of air that sounded similar to a dog barking out its’ last breath. If he was a morning person, he would have laughed. Something about the strangeness of the situation lead him to attempt that morning person façade. It would have been too awkward not to.

“You alright there buddy?” He rolled over, making it apparent to Tweek that yes, he did sleep with his hat on. Tweek made a face. It was Monday. They were missing classes today. Normally he’d have to beg his parents for this opportunity, but he was getting out of class for free.

“When are we leaving?” The staccato of words jutting out harshly. Craig was caught off guard at this change in mood. He thought that Tweek had warmed up to him after yesterday’s escapades. Apparently not.

“Soon, I guess. We’re gonna have to stop somewhere for food first.” He shifted and looked away, no longer a fan of the situation he put himself in. Tweek nodded, getting ready to climb out. He was greeted by blinding beams, higher in heat than he was used to. The warmth felt good, and for a moment he could imagine the pores of his skin opening up to suck in the feel-good doings of the sun. He surveyed the area, the ground a smattering of gravel, sand, and pine. Trees of pale color, cracked bark, winding up and trailing into the sky. Taller than any form Tweek could take. The insignificance of his being weighed in, nearing the state of overwhelming. He would die before these trees halted their existence. They would live long after he perished. A dirty smokiness wafted towards his nostrils.

“I’ll give you some time to change before we head out.” Craig internally shuddered at the way his voice broke the empty air around them.

“Alright.” Tweek said breathlessly.

~*~

                White and pink alternating tiles covered the floor, a gray hazy factor smudging and removing any accent that the floor once had. This floor was experienced in foot traffic. Despite it being a Monday, booths and tables were packed, and it was about ten minutes until Tweek and Craig found their way to a two seater booth by a window. The laminated menus didn’t protect the menu from coffee stains.  The air was filled with a muddled combination of chit chat, clinking of silverware to plates, and the door opening and closing periodic, the bell giving a cheery ring. They sat in silence, Tweek having already figure out his order but continuing to flip over the menu, feigning uncertainty in what he was going to order. If he looked busy, there was less of a likelihood they would sit in an uncomfortable silence. Craig seemed to be in the same line of thinking. A unanimous sigh of relief sounded as their waitress returned with a pot of coffee and a pad of paper in hand.

“And what can I do for y’all today?” She asked. She was a towering woman with dark hair pulled back and eyeliner flicked to the heavens. Her nails could only be described as polished talons, a length of which could take on the fiercest of prey. Her catalogue appearance and the ease at which she spoke implied that she had been in this environment for a long enough time to feel the kind of confidence that one feels in their home, or at least a place where one spends a majority of their time. The pristine nature of her name tag inclined otherwise, implying a timeframe of her stay was long enough to get settled in but short enough to not lose her fire.

“The number 11 looks-”

“I’ll have the number-”

                They both stopped, a moment of surprise and fear translating between their eyes.

“Oh you can go,” Craig looked away, an unfamiliar feeling of panic creeping through his shoulders and towards his neck. He concluded that the nerves of the other must have been contagious.

“No, it-it’s fine, really,” Tweek stammered. After a couple more versions of conversational hot potato, Tweek decided it was time to end this match of who should order first.

“Um, I’ll have the number 6 please, could I substitute the bacon for home style potatoes?”

“Sure thing, and what would you like?” She asked, turning her attention to Craig.

“And I’ll have the number 11 with over easy eggs,” Craig finished. Just as quickly as the waitress came, she had left with both of their menus. Tweek became a passive observer of anything unrelated to the individual sitting across from him. He started with the window, noticing the finger prints on the window and the bread crumbs that flourished by the edge of the window. There was a hardened splotch of what appeared to be strawberry jam- or potentially raspberry. He scanned the table, noticing the almost pointillist style of brown table. Craig started drawing invisible pictures in his napkin using his knife

“Don’t you think this is weird?” Tweek started, the other straightening his posture and putting down the knife. “Like… we haven’t talked since sixth grade. And the last time you talked to me, you were kinda” He shifted around a little more, “a dick about things.” Tweek slumped back in his seat, arms crossing over his chest and focusing on the top of Craig’s forehead, where the hair peeking out had a certain level of greasiness that could only result from a night spent in a hat. Craig cleared his throat, shifting in his seat and eyebrows furrowing. His temperament began to flare up.

“It wasn’t really all my fault though, and besides it was in the past and we’re hanging out now so why does that matter?” Craig spoke sharply, pushing out the feeling of guilt with one of acute anger.

“The past does matter though. You-you were a jerk.” Tweek became defensive, slouching and scrunching further in his seat.  “We only started hanging out again yesterday, after we were put in a group together. If that didn’t happen- I doubt- that I would be- or that we would- be here right now.” He was now letting out stressed breaths, fidgeting with the cuffs of his shirt. The air became stiff and hard to swallow. Craig’s eyes harshened, prepared to offer a snippy response that would surely get Tweek to back down- that is, before the waitress broke the tension with the arrival of food. The cheery announcement of food and well wishes left the two to a silent eating match. Craig was looking angrily off in to the distance, Tweeks’ own frustration growing in the process. Craig paid for their meals upfront in order to avoid any unnecessary conversation with his ex-best friend.

The car ride began and it was not gentle. Craig’s legs were cramping and the more he thought about spending the next half a day in a car with someone currently unaware of his existence, the more he began to resent not only his dumbfuck of a brain but also that asshole sitting next to him. He was still green in splotches from their scuffle two days prior. The more he thought about it, the more he considered taking up extra classes with the intention of fucking Tweek up during their next wrestle session. He had taken care to avoid smoking on the ride there, but now he was actively pursuing an occupation in lung damage. Electropop played over the speaker system, and in the few times he did stop, Tweek had stayed in the car. Six hours in he had a change of heart, but it wasn’t until hour seven: with the daylight dwindling at a rapid pace, that Tweek rolled down his window and the chirping click of a lighter sounded that Craig was aware. His eyes shot back over his shoulder a couple of times,

“Are you smoking?”

Tweek jumped and let out a couple of throaty coughs,

“Yeah. I don’t see why it would be a problem, you’ve been smoking this whole time.” He scrunched his face and his lips tightened into a line.

“Step off, I was just asking,” Craig resumed full focus on the road for upwards of a minute, both hands on the wheel and flicking the ash onto his pant leg, “I didn’t peg you as the smoking type. This whole time I had been holding back because I thought you’d like, freak.”

                “You’ve been holding back?” Tweek snorted, lips cracking a smile and teeth poking out with a goofy connotation, “I haven’t seen you without a cigarette for more than three blocks this whole ride. If you smoked anymore you’d be in the ground.” He laughed at his own joke, and while Craig didn’t get the humor in it, he let out some well-trained pity laughs. It was more about the bonding experience and not about if he actually thought it was funny. “I’m a casual smoker. Usually only do it when I’m drunk but every now and then I like to treat myself.”

                “Yeah, I guess you could say I’m a casual smoker too.” Craig said dryly, causing the pair to laugh. Tweek’s laugh was particularly wild, his body convulsing with it and his stiff limbs melting into the crevices of the seat cushion.

                “I don’t actually want to do the wrestling program,” Tweek forced out, the end of the sentence inflecting upwards, “I just agreed with it because of, uh, social anxiety stuff.”

                “What would you want to do?”

                “I don’t know.” He put the remains of his cigarette in his shirt pocket, thinking it over. “What about the drawing club? It only meets once a week.”

                “That won’t work, I get really bored with that type of stuff. One week or not.”

                “There’s the movie club. Also low maintenance.”

                “I guess that would be fine. I could probably text during it so… yeah it’s a deal.”

                The atmosphere was much better. It wasn’t until the final two hours that things were winding down. They were in the bowels of the night, and the air was becoming closer to what they were used to. Tweek was still pretty amped up, Craig was having a less than enjoyable experience. He had pulled over to the side of the road, standing and leaning against the front of the truck. Tweek was short to meet him there. Bugs echoed and hummed, the clouds breaking inconsistently and giving way to moody blue and tear like stars that glistened relentlessly. Soft breathing and bitter smoke were their contributions to the atmosphere.

                “Thanks for picking me up. I don’t think I would have ever had the balls to do this in any normal circumstance.”

“It’s not a problem, really. I was feeling restless and it was more for my own selfish gain then anything.” He inhaled a particularly long stream, exhaling it with the urgency of a potato. “Not going to lie, I did want to deck you at some point. But my hands were on the wheel and I couldn’t exactly do that without fucking my Dads’ truck up in the process.”

“Guess the group session is already helping with your… never mind. Does your dad mind that you took the truck for the whole day?”

“Nah, he can just use the subie.” He finished his cig and flicked it off away from the road, checking his phone and ignoring the first statement. “Alright we should be back by 5 or 6 at the latest. School is at 7:30… so that would give us like an hour of sleep if you stayed the night. Unless you want me to drop you off, which is also very doable.” Craig hopped around, shutting the door behind him and buckling up. Tweek was seconds behind.

“I guess that would be fine, kinda want to take a shower though but there’s just not enough time.” He tapered off towards the end of that sentence.

“That can be arranged.”

~*~

Craigs’ room was messier than Tweek assumed it to be. The bed was unmade, papers and clothes scattered around in addition to a vast collected of cups- some partially filled in different levels and others empty. There was a stack of cereal bowls with spoons poking out of them, and his blinds were drawn slanted. Tweek waited until Craig gave him the okay to step in, having kicked some stuff aside and cleared off a beat up couch that he and his friends occasionally used when they were gaming or watching the latest in action thrillers. The night, what was left of it, continued quietly.

The aggressive shouting of the alarm immediately woke Tweek up, but while his brain was on, his body was not. The angular sounds and the lack of sleep left him feeling like any movement could cause his heart to explode. Craig was more vocally expressive, groaning loudly. The bed imitated his groan with the rolling of his body, snatching his phone and swiping off the alarm. Tweek quietly sat with his feet off the edge of the couch, eyes staring deadly into the abyss of clothes. Craig began to make moves, surprised by a soft touch on his arm,

“Please. Let’s skip the first two periods. I will quite actually die if we go right now.”

Craig dropped his pants from where they were and sloppily made his way to bed, adjusting the alarm and calling it quits. Tweek returned to his slot on the couch.

~*~

Friday evening was movie night at the school. The science lab had the only functional projector in the building, and the room was packed with five individuals. Tweek was in the back lying low, anxiety growing as his therapy partner had yet to arrive. Not like the Goth squad was bad company, but he was here for a grade and the thought of Craig ruining this for him was too much to think about. The opening number of Reefer Madness was just about done with when he became aware of a shadowy figure sitting beside him. They exchanged acknowledgements and remained in social silence accompanied by movie dialogue.


	7. Chapter 7

 “How was dinner?”

“Not too bad, pizza night. What about you?”

Tweek answered with a preemptive shrug,

“My dad was working tonight and my mom is out with friends so I ended up making a grilled cheese.” They took careful steps in the school parking lot, the faulty street lamps making travel unknown. It had been dark out for a number of hours at this point, in part due to South Parks’ northern latitude. The ghosting edges of mountain tops alluded to the scenery that residents more often than not painted out, no doubt a commonality.

“Do you have any alternative plans? Since your family will be out.”

“I have friends too, you know.” Tweek rolled his eyes up a little, “No plans so far. What about on your end?”

“There’s supposed to be a gathering at Tokens. You could probably tag along if you wanted.” Craig rooted around in his pocket for car keys, unlocking the door to a white Subaru and reaching across to unlock the passenger side. “I can just drop you off too if you’d want and you could tell me later. It’s won’t really start until 9 but I’m planning to go around 10.” Tweek hopped in, swinging his backpack between his legs and pulling the seatbelt too soon.

“Yeah I can do that. I need to take care of some things first, but I can walk over once I’m done.” One of the many benefits of South Park was the close proximity coinciding with the fact that people rarely moved in economic standing, meaning that it was very unlikely that someone would move. Tweek had moved once early middle school, and that was good gossip for about a month or two. “I’ll hit you up before I head out.”

Craig nodded and picked out their playlist for the minute drive.

“It would probably be best if I picked you up, since it’s on the way.”

“That works for me.”

 

Tweek hung out on his stoop until Craig showed up, having showered for a second time that day and changed once more. Dark khaki joggers were paired with a faded green band t-shirt, a red flannel thrown over top. The chatter over the loud music trailing out of the windows let Tweek know it would not be an isolated endeavor. Luckily enough the passenger seat was still open.

“Hey Tweakers! Long time no see!” A hand grabbed his shoulder, the words rolling off of his neck. He turned slightly to see Clyde, smiling and noting the yeasty scent of his breath.

“Yeah nice to see you again,” He took a more detailed look at the back seat, passing around “Hey”s with Butters and Damien. He didn’t know much about Craigs’ friend group past the sixth grade and it seemed to be mixed with a curious combination of folks. He wasn’t sure if it was more of a relationship based on carpooling or if it was anything deeper. Tokens was about a 15 minute drive, given that it was a little further out in the “nicer” part of town. Clyde filled it up by shouting over the music, and for part of the ride Craig tried to compete by turning up the volume. Once it was apparent that shouting was not determining factor for Clyde he gave in, doing the bare minimum to reassure his friend that yes, he was listening.

Tokens’ was more than Tweek was expecting. Cars filled the winding drive way, and not everyone had the same skill in parallel parking. Craig was suffering considerably five minutes into the ordeal he gave up and pulled slightly onto the lawn. They meandered up to the front of the house where a collection of smokers and nonsmokers were gathered, Clyde and Damien getting stuck in a shuffleboard of conversations, Butters wandering off soon after they got inside. Craig made his rounds on the way to the kitchen, making each interaction brief, with Tweek following until approached by Wendy. Anxiety induced politeness kept him behind, eyes watching frantically as his ride disappeared from sight.

“Tweek! What are you doing out here? Don’t you usually work Friday nights?” Wendy teased, bumped his arm lightly.

“Haha, yeah, um, I got my work schedule changed. Now I do more of the lunch rush and a couple of mornings when I have free periods.” He and Wendy weren’t that well acquainted, but it was pretty soothing to come across someone that he talked to more than most- even if it was in work based scenarios. Wendy had really shot up over the years, and had a lot going for her. She was Volleyball co-captain, honor role, and AP induced. Rumor has it she had even been taking community college courses over the summer. Tweek had learned a bit about this while making her coffee. She was planning on going to nursing school as far from here as possible, and because of the bust in the economy, her family had been forced to use her college fund to keep the house. They were in better standing now that there was some recovery, but at the time Wendy had been devastated. Now she was working mostly on a scholarship basis and had enough credits that she could transfer to the nearest city easy. But her eyes were on the East coast.

                “Bummer! Guess I’ll see you in the mornings more often. Did you come with anyone?”

                “Craig picked me up on his way, he brought Clyde, Damien, and Butters too.” He furrowed his eyebrows, licking him lips, “So, uh, is it usually this big?”

                Wendy shook her head,

                “Not usually. A bunch of Tokens’ friends who got to private schools are on break though so it’s a little different then the regular crowd.” She took note of Tweeks’ fidgeting hands that were currently kneading circles into his palms. “It’s a little quieter out back. Want me to show you around?”

                His face muscles softened in relief, nodding and thankful that Wendy was willing to give him a tour. Their first stop included getting drinks, with Wendy being a graceful facilitator, introducing him to various social groups throughout the house without lingering for too long.

                Craig was having a different experience, lounging on the back porch and halfheartedly holding a red cup of white wine, taking hits of weed when a bowl was passed around. He had hung out with some of Tokens’ fencing friends before and while he understood the social obligation that Token felt, he couldn’t stand the clear divide of social groups at parties like this. He had gotten on pretty comfortable terms with a couple of the lacrosse players, Thomas being one.

                “So what’s new on your end? Buy any boats recently?” Craig said between deep gulps,

                “Yeah, planning on getting a nice yacht to sail in Wilmers’ creek, you know? Five sails and all that shit.” Thomas responded, smoking a bunch of his personal collection. He had a medical marijuana card that benefited greatly in these situations. Craig let out a snort, stealing a puff.

                “Can’t imagine. You start on applications?”

                “Unfortunately. Not sure what I want to go for yet but not going for at least one semester is a pretty big no for my family. How bout you Craig? You planning on escaping this miserable town?”

                “Haven’t started.” Craig shrugged off the joint being passed around and opted for a cigarette instead.

                “Clocks ticking to get out of this hell hole. Not calling you poor but it’s a lot easier for me than it is for you.” He stole a sip of Craigs’ drink, leaving the smallest amount left.

                “Yeah.” It was times like this that Thomas convinced him maybe all rich kids weren’t so self-centered and unaware. Craig got up, tossing his cigarette off the railing and pushing past the glass sliding door. He was sure that Tweek was probably off dying somewhere, and it was up to him to rescue his therapy partner. It was kind of a dick move on his part, but when he had looked back, Tweek wasn’t there and he was interested in waiting around. He was beginning to feel a little guilty. He scanned from room to room, unsure of where he would be. He remembered Tweek mentioning something about having friends, and tried to recall who he probably hung out with. He went into the basement, the voices bouncing off of the walls and culminating in a wall of sound. When he turned the corner he was less than surprised to see a game of beer pong going on, taking a double-take when he noticed who was working the table.

                Tweek arched his hand, a sharp pop as the ball hit the inner lip of the cup. He held onto his red solo cup lazily, toing the line of dropping it and keeping it secure. People shouted in support, the cheers fueling Tweeks’ drunken ego as he took a sloppy sip of white wine. This was his third drink so to speak, it terms of different things, but he had definitely drank more than enough of each. Wendy gave him a crisp high five, and the two beckoned for their next opponents. Craig looked around, spotting Clyde who was currently flirting away for a group of prospective bangs, when Craig intercepted his line of vision and cornered him.

                “We need to play.” He didn’t give much of an option, Clyde was already signed up for it. Clyde raised an eyebrow, lips folding back into his cheeks in confusion. “Pong.” Craig turned around, commanding him to follow by default and forcefully placing his hand on the table. He was never above dramatics, but didn’t stop him from feeling cool as hell. Especially with the mixing chemicals floating around his symptom. Tweek looked up, a stony expression washing over. Craig dead stared back. The tension was apparent, most people assuming it was a result of ex-best friend forever status. Some ‘ooo’ing went around, whispering included. Tweek, without a filter and a considerable amount of confidence, took a splashing sip of wine for extra effect,

                “I’m going to crush you.” He said, crashing the bottom of his cup on the table for emphasis. The crowd went wild for half a second, the excitement in the atmosphere building and shushing one another when Craig cleared his throat.

                “I didn’t realize you had feelings for me. Don’t think I’ll go easy on you.” Some hooting and general pushing of people occurred, Tweek bouncing the ball a few times before shooting and sinking one. The air was a lot more explosive than it had been before, no doubt, the chatter now electric rather than being a booming repetition of words without purpose. People began to file in as the game progressed, Tweek and Wendy starting off strong in the first half, and Clyde and Craig lagging behind but making a quick turnaround. Tweek and Craig exchanged petty insults and taunts, Clyde and Wendy talking light-heartedly and laughing all the while. It was in a twist of fate that Tweek got it with the behind the back throw initiated after catching the ball. People exploded with sound, hands touching Tweek all over the back and grabbing at him in a celebratory way. If he was any more sober it would have bothered him, but for now he flourished in the cheers, grinning so hard his face hurt. He caught Craigs’ gaze and without speaking began making his way up the stairs towards the porch.

                “I didn’t take you as a professional,” Craig commented, shutting the sliding glass door behind him and shuffling with his box of cigarettes.

“This isn’t my first party,” Tweek reached out his hand, making a grabby motion. For a moment Craig paused, unlit cigarette balanced between his lips and confused with what was expected of him before nodding, raising his eyebrows as if to say ‘oh’.  He handed one over to Tweek. After a few clicks Craig bent his head down to the flame, Tweek leaning his hand toward before sticking the cigarette in his mouth as well.  There were moments of silence, not all of them the actual worst.

“Sorry for ditching you earlier. Crowds aren’t my favorite,” Craig shifted his weight from one foot to the other, thinking of something to say or ask. Apologies weren’t the best spring board for conversation. Luckily, Tweek picked up the slack with a long draw and a quiet exhale

“It’s fine, Wendy kept me safe.” He continued to sway more than the regular amount, stumbling back and leaning against the wall with his hips jutted out and his eyes half lidded. He felt cool as hell from this angle. Craig snorted, elbowing him lightly in the side,

“Hey cool guy, you come here often?” Craig said, speaking a little too loud for how close they were. He was feeling it a little. At least enough to relax.

“Uh, yeah, only on um… pong days, competition pong,” Tweek lazily raised his empty hand to place a crooked peace sign over one of his days. “I’m a pro. You might have heard of me.”

“Yeah, I think I’ve seen you. In Sports Illustrated, right?”

Tweek stared dumbly, trying to understand the connection and then grinning.

“Yeah yeah yeah! That, that was all me.” He nodded rapidly, thinking as fast as his blurred mind could handle in an attempt to keep it going. This was a different kind of conversation, one that reminded him of before the friend break up. He had to keep the vibe going, “You might want to take a picture, because you know, I’m a celebrity.”

“Aw shit, you’re right.” Craig tossed his cig and fumbled with his phone, Tweek standing upright and moving in. “Alright count of three. One, two, three-“ This photoshoot continued for a couple of minutes, starting off pretty seriously before Tweek began to throw peace signs left and right, and when Craig brought up snapchat and put on the dog filter, it was all over. Tweek held the phone, inspecting the cartoon ears and nose.

“This is good. This is very good. You’ve got to send this to me.” Tweek stated, his face conveying seriousness with sharp eyes and tensed features. He posted it to Craig’s story, typing his username in and handing the phone back. The cigarettes were done now. There was no need for them to be outside, and at least on Craigs’ part, the sobering process had begun. Tweek was drunk, but a functional drunk. They stumbled between eye contact and figuring out what sort of body language was appropriate to convey.

“Wanna wrap things up?” Craig asked, already starting to open the door.

“Yeah, I’m down,” Tweek answered, quick to follow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave comments so i feel more motivated orz


	8. Chapter 8

                Tweek was back at in shot gun, taking over for aux chord duty as Craig rustled around the trash in his center console. He must have given up, because he closed the lid and turned off the overhead light, turning the engine. Clyde was still talking a mile a minute, only now things were a little more nonsensical. Damien and Butters were not quite ready to head out, or had alternate plans for the evening.

                “Alright Clyde, where we going?” Craig asked, glancing at him in the rear view mirror then looking over his shoulder as he backed out.

                “Dad’s house, it’s closer and he’s more relaxed on the weekend,” Clyde continued on with his previous topic of what kind of potato was the best kind, whether or not sweet potato based items could be considered a vegetable, and how wild it was that gluten was quite literally in everything, which made it hard for him to go out. Tweek was better company than Clyde was used to. He nodded and made noises in acknowledgment, even going so far as to ask follow up questions such as: where does zucchini bread land in this world of vegetable or dessert? What kind of bean made the best alternative pasta? Things along that line. Now now played over the speaker, some remixes and some originals. Craig was impressed with how good at holding a conversation Tweek could be, even more so when it wasn’t with him. He contemplated that at the end of the driveway turning left. It wasn’t like he was boring to talk to, he just didn’t know what to say. Clyde made it easier, he guessed. With most of the talking and prompting on his end, Tweek could have been asleep and the other wouldn’t have noticed. Still, it did put him a little bit of a mood when he considered that Tweek wasn’t actually asleep, and was asking so many questions over something that he considered to be completely pointless as a concept.

                He dropped Clyde off first, determined to have an impactful conversation if only out of spite. Departures were brief with a quick ‘see you when I see you’ type dismissal, before Craig began to drive off. He had been contemplating subjects to bring up the whole ride.

                “Any plans for tomorrow?” Nice, a soft opening. He could get inspired and work from whatever Tweek said. His group therapy partner didn’t even know what was coming for him.

                “Not a whole lot. Homework, hanging out with Dylan for a little.” Tweek shifted uncomfortably as his drunken state began to mellow out. Debating how much to reveal, “What about you?”

                “Probably just sit around a watch something,” Craig shrugged. He frantically picked at the edges of his mind, but nothing came to mind. He pulled up alongside Tweeks’ house, allowing him to get out.

                “Uh, I have a show tomorrow. If you’re interested. It’s just at Moonrise Café so it’s nothing that serious.” Tweek said, folding his body over to talk through the car door, “It’s around 7 to 7:30ish.” Craig acknowledged that with the tilt of his head.

                “Alright, see you tomorrow then.” Craig shifted gears again, Tweek shutting the door and heading inside.

~*~

Craig was punctual, if not early. He expected that he’d be here before Tweek, but to his surprise, he was bustling about in a quick paced manner. Craig had been thoughtful in his attire, A rusty brown cardigan draped over a shirt with varying blues striped across. It might not have been much, but Craig felt like he looked beefy in this shirt so it was an automatic favorite for when he was trying to give off a certain aura. Being in a band was cool, and he didn’t appreciate that Tweek was doing something he wasn’t. Tweek on the other hand was killing the aesthetics game. His black and grey Smiths shirt went well with his muted green paints tucked into black and white skate highs, his hair kept under control by being pulled back into a loose beanie about the same color as his head. The bottoms of his ears poked out, displaying large square faux diamond earrings. His glasses were similar to the rectangular thick rims that were popular in the early 2000s My Chemical Romance era. Craig wasn’t sure if this was just part of “the look”, but he hoped for his own case of second hand embarrassment that they had function. Tweek had a sparkly navy bass with white pickups strapped around his body, working on tuning and then adjusting his pedal settings. To his surprise, Dylan and Ethan were involved in this production as well, Dylan putting on more effort in the look factory with sloppy smudged eyeliner and freshly red fringe, spinning in the seat behind his drum kit absentmindedly. Ethan was as ridiculously tall as ever, still rocking Robert Smith inspired hair and settling for a flat black shoe. He was a little further along in the set up process with his guitar. Last to join them was Henrietta, rolling in her keyboard with the help of Georgie. Georgie began laying out a glorified merch table which really was a bunch of hand draw stickers and some cds in hand made envelopes. Each envelope had a different design, most being centered on pointillism with white text that read “Sleep Paralysis”.

Craig felt out of place. There were people who he know on at least a surface level, but none that he felt comfortable sitting with. Senior year was weird that way, everyone was in their groups and with most of his peers planning on heading out after high school, no one was really interested in making additional friends that they would leave behind in a matter of months. He settled on a seat by the window, willing Tweek to look over with success. A short wave was given. Tweek lit up, returning the motion before nervously looking away and fiddling around with stuff that was already set up. He practiced some scales, the moody instrument humming at a low frequency.

“I don’t usually see you around here,” A familiar voice sprang up, knocked Craig out of his mental examination.

                “Yeah, trying something different, you know? …Do you come to their shows often? Uh, do they play a lot?”

                “I’ve gone to just about every show Tweek puts on, they’re here usually once a week and sometimes in basement shows.” Wendy informed, sitting across from him and motioning Bebe and Red to come over. A round of hellos were exchanged. Bebe, Red, and Wendy began to chat about some class they all shared. Craig went back to observing. Mic checks were happening, and people continued to file in. The turnout was one of the better ones.

                “We’re Sleep Paralysis,” Ethan announced, cutting through the conversations and causing a dulling of speech, “We’ve got stickers and cds over by Georgie, so check that out. Alright, here we go,” Ethan looked over at Tweek who nodded, and an orchestrated jumble of organized sound pumped out through their amps, rough and more energetic than expected. Tweek contributed a higher octave of desperate singing that bordered shouting, Ethans’ voice being deeper and more restrained. The two harmonized rather well, and during emphasized lyrics towards the end, Henrietta joined in.

                “Yeah you wreck me, yeah you wreck me, yeah you wreck me,” The three echoed as the song faded out, the song blurring into another which focused on slowing down the tempo and was left with a haunting murmur of ambient bass, somber and expressive. Henrietta pitched in with the occasional, lighter keyboard strokes which would offer a whimper of hope among the depressive, fuzzy sounds. Tweek opened his mouth, singing softer this time in a way that was relaxing. It was too timid to determine any words he was saying, but the tenderness evoked was one of longing.  Craig strained his ears,

“I saw you in my dreams,

Keeping out of reach,

When will you come down? When will you come down?

Will it ever be enough?

The sacrifices of those around you?”

                Ethan has begun layering on ambient chords, Dylan throwing in some rim clicks and soft cymbal roles every now and then. This song had an actual end, allowing for some claps and couple of Tweeks’ friends shouting encouragement such as, “get it Tweek”. He smiled shyly,

                “This one is called ‘You’re flakier than my scalp after a hot shower’,” Dylan counted them off and the rest of the set went off without a hitch, most of them being quicker paced. Craig watched some people filtering through the merch table.

                “Thanks for having us, up next tit’s Petrified Cameo,” Dylan closed off, unplugging his guitar and the rest of the squad working at leisure to pack up. Craig snuck over to the merch table and paid the three dollars for a sticker and cd, hiding it in his inner cardigan pocket. Something about it made him feel shy, like he didn’t want Tweek to know how much he enjoyed it and how he was planning on dissecting every word in an attempt to have a deeper understanding. Some might call it nosy, Craig preferred not to think about it. He went up to Tweek,

                “Hey, nice show. I didn’t know you were so musically gifted,” Craig complimented, watching Tweek struggle with balancing both his bass and the variety of cords.

                “Thanks, it was really nice of you to come. Don’t feel obligated to like it though, you won’t be hurting my feelings,” Tweek said without missing a step and almost as if it was casual. Did they get complaints often? Craig tossed out that thought,

                “Do you need help packing stuff up?” Craig asked. He was handing the tangled mess of cords.

“You can just shove that in the gab behind my amp, don’t worry about making it look nice.” He disarmed, sliding his bass into a soft bag and slinging it over his shoulder, picking up his self-made pedal board.  He tapped Craigs’ arm with his elbow and motioned for him to follow. They slipped out the back, stopping dead when he saw Henrietta load her keyboard into the spot usually reserved for his bass.

“Sorry Tweek, I don’t have a ride today so I’m gonna have to kick you out. My aunt is working late. You can find a ride right?” Henrietta said, closing the top hatch. Tweek was visibly anxious in thought about that.

“My parents are still out of town, I guess I could ask around,” Before he had enough time to stress any further, Craig stepped in.

“I have some room, and you’re close by so it wouldn’t be that bad.” Craig tried to appear as casual as one could while carrying an amp, arms achy. Tweek opened his mouth to offer a counterargument but Craig was already moving towards the white Subaru that Tweek had gotten familiar with. He was biting back the urge to drop the amp. He moved his head sharply as if to point to the keys in his front pocket, Tweek diving his hand in and unlocking the car. He battled an expression of disgust when he noticed how cluttered the back seat was as well. Not wanting to put his sweet baby Carla in such an unfortunate space. He apologized mentally and gently placed her in, Craig shoving the amp in hastily.

“Thanks a lot for your help. Some of us are planning on going to Dennys’ if that would interest you, but if that’s not your idea of a good time we don’t have to do that.”

“I think I need something after that work out, so I’m down.” He slipped into the driver’s side and they began their voyage to breakfast kingdom. Dylan, Georgie, Henrietta, and Ethan were all there, with the addition of some of the others from the show. Most of the group was scattered between booths and tables, Henrietta waving them over. Tweek very rarely strayed from his go-to, passing the menu right to Craig instead.

“So Craig, what brings you to this side of South Park?” Henrietta prompted, sipping her watery coffee.

“Change of scenery.” Craig didn’t know how to talk to this group. In younger years they had been intrigued by Craigs’ lack of outer emotion but that was the extent of their relationship. “How long have you been doing music for?”

“Tweek and I have been doing this for three years, we just started to expand probably in the last year,” Dylan pitched in, leaning over to Ethan to whisper something. Ethan nodded and took out his phone, the two taking part of their own conversation.

“We noticed you joined our movies club, I’m actually the president, Henrietta’s the secretary,” Georgie offered. Craig was glad to have something to soften the severity of this interaction. He hadn’t been involved in a new group of people for a while.

“Oh yeah, it was uh, nice.” Craig offered. Georgie started to explain the history of the club and how people didn’t appreciate the older more obscure films and the way that the modern movie industry was just a shell of what it used to be. This was surprisingly interesting, and he found it easier talking to Georgie than even Tweek, who had taken out a pen and started drawing on a napkin. They wrapped out the meal with a smoke around 9 p.m., going separate ways. Craig helped tow things inside, excited to see the Tweak residents. He had visited it briefly in sixth grade before having shunned Tweek. It’d be interested to see his room. Tweek ran up fast to drop his pedal and bass in his room, helping Craig carry his amp to the garage.

They stood in the garage awkwardly, leaning on the amp a little.

“If you want to hang around a little, you can. We can watch the twilight zone, or go for a cache.”

“A cache?”

“Yeah a geocache. Like, treasure hunting?”

“Oh. Yeah we can do that.”

“Alright, let me get some stuff upstairs and we can head out.” Tweek turned to head up the stairs, Craig standing at the bottom and staring at the empty walls to occupy his brain. Tweek was down shortly with a flashlight and his phone out, opening up an app and checking through some options.

~*~

                Craig and Tweek walked around in a forest. They had been searching for upwards of 20 minutes at this point with no avail. Craig was taking the west side and Tweek on the east,

                “What’d you say it would look like?”

                “In a clear Tupperware, should be slightly under some roots according to this one person.” Tweek answered, moving some leaves around and searching. Craig followed suit.

                “Is this it?” Craig asked, picking it up and pointing his flashlight. Tweek excitedly ran over, inspecting the box and opening up. Two rubber bands, a small plastic dinosaur, and a red rubber ball. Nice. He took out the small paper pad within and handing the container back to Craig, taking out a pen.

                “Want me to write your name in the log too?”

                “Uh, sure I guess.” Craig fished through the contents, not really sure what he was supposed to do. Was this it? Tweek added a plus sign next to his name and added Craig, putting the paper book back in and closing the container before pushing it back in the crevice of the tree.

                “Not to be like… a dick, but is that it?”

                Tweek took a moment to fully understand the implications of this statement. Ears burned with a sense of insecurity.

                “Well yeah. It’s supposed to be more about the scavenge.” 

                “That’s kind of dumb,” Craig said without thinking of his actions, taking out a cigarette and heading back towards his car.

                “Sor- sorry it’s not as fun as sitting in your room watch- watching your hamster take a shit.” He spat back.

                “She’s a guinea pig, you fuck.” Craigs’ shoulders became almost spikey, the thorns of his emotions emerging through his skin. Tweek chewed on the inside of his cheek, keeping biting responses to himself. He wasn’t about to risk losing his ride home. Craig stopped at a gas station, heading in to grab a second pack and maybe a Gatorade. The adventure back was extremely thick with nasty thick air clouding any kind of casual conversation. He came back out, fishing through his plastic back and grabbing the door handle, only to hear the click of the handle. He pulled it a couple more times without any fruitful response. Tweek glowered at him from the passenger side, hand on the lock panel on his side. Craig had left his keys in the ignition.

                “Tweek, open the door.” His voice was low, calm and barely having any inflection in it. It was commanding. Tweek didn’t move, raising an eyebrow and then looking away as if he couldn’t hear or see him. “Tweek I’m only going to say this one more time. Open. The door.” Rapid impatience acted as a hole in a boat, frustration and dark red emotions trickling in. Tweek played on his phone, feigning oblivion. Craigs’ pores flared open, heat expanding and sharp eyes all but cutting through the metal itself. He continued to jerk on the handle, seeing it wasn’t moving the way he wanted it too and staring to bang his palm on the glass. “Tweek if you don’t fucking open the door, I swear I’ll tell everyone about the real reason we stopped being friends!” He pounding on the door, the glass, anything his hands could get on, causing a slight dent in the door itself. Tweek looked over, eyes wide and twisting with disgust. The lock popped up on Craigs’ side. The way home left Tweek feeling nauseous.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> once again comment to let me know what you like/dislike u v u ♥


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm probably going to wrap this up in the next 1-2 chapters  
> As always comment thoughts and all that ♥

Their weekly one on one check up with Mr. Mackey was bland at best. Both said things were going fine. Yes, they were growing and this was helping. No, they didn’t have anything they thought could be improved. Craig was being avoided, he knew this. But he didn’t have the mentality to force a conversation, and the way he saw it, Tweek shouldn’t have been provoking him. Geocaching was dumb. There wasn’t anything cool in the box, and if the best part of it was signing a paper, he could do that on his own time. As time spent itself, he brewed about it. Most of it came as thoughts before bad, reanalyzing the situation. It wasn’t something he usually did when his temper… got a little too much. As of such, any time the thought tried to creep in during dull moments, he’d push his arms out and keep it away. Thursdays’ group session was something else.

“Get in your pairs and talk over the question sheet I passed out. Once you and your partner run through all of the questions, you can leave. But remember, if I don’t think you have grown enough, I can keep you in the program.” He droned on, chair pins squeaking as they grinded against the floor. Tweek zoned out, staring at nothing. Craig sighed, realizing he was going to have to be the one to initiate this. He sat across the table. It was as if they were in a round of the silent game. Craig watched the clock, feeling something he didn’t often allow himself to experience. Anxiety. As much as he didn’t want to say this, maybe it was inappropriate for him to diss something that Tweek wanted to share with him. For the first time in a while he was allowing himself to enter a stage of introspection. Ever since this had started a few weeks ago, his physical fights were at zero. Even his vocal spats had lessened over time. It hadn’t always been that bad, but something had changed.

“Alright, you want to do this?” Craig asked, putting the paper down on the table and holding a pen. Tweek shrugged. Alright. He could do this. “What coping strategies have you used so far to help manage your emotions?” Damn, this was a deep one already. Mr. Mackey really didn’t beat around the bush. Tweek released another shrug. Craig took this as a hint to maybe try a different one. He scanned the list for a softer question. “What areas do you think you could improve on?” Craig watched Tweek for a response. Instead he just stared off into space. That was fine, maybe this was just a warm up. “What do you hope to gain from this experience?” Once more, nothing.

“Alright Tweek, if you’re not going to participate in this, I don’t know what to do.” Craig threw his pen on the table and slouched back into the chair. Restraining himself.

“Just put down whatever. It’s not like anyone really takes this seriously.” He brought his hands in closer to his body, digging his thumb into the opposite palm of his hand. Usually he was all for this type of thing, in fact he probably took it the most serious out of others in the room. It had been weird at first how much effort Tweek put into the assignments and discussions here, but over time it was almost charming. It had actually motivated Craig to try a little more. He thought this over, analyzing what the shift could have been. People began to leave, and Tweek got ready to do the same. “Make something up before our next meeting with Mr. Mackey.” Tweek put his bag over one shouldered and made a break for it. Craig couldn’t move fast enough to get his stuff and stumble out after him.

“Tweek, come on. We can’t do this without working together. I know you don’t want to be stuck in this next term.”

“Kinda sucks having to rely on someone to pass, right?” He said absentmindedly, heading towards the main exit. The end of the day was sweeter every time. In this context he couldn’t make sense of it.

“Do you want a ride home? I can give you a ride home.” Desperation for a prolonged conversation was never something Craig sought out. He wasn’t sure what he could say for Tweek to give him what he wanted. He began pulling out words and sentences in any order that might of put a pause on the situation. “Ugh, talk to me. It’s not fair.” Tweek stopped, the rumbling of busses leaving the parking lot echoing as he finally took a look at Craig.

“It’s not fair? That’s interesting. Seems fair only matters when you don’t get what you want.” Tweek mentally gave himself a pat on the back for the bravery he was pushing out. Craig appeared hurt, mouth slightly open and eyebrows quacking upward.

“Alright, yeah, I can see what you’re saying.” Nice, he was talking. His heart rate spread up, about to share something emotionally risky. He wasn’t used to feeling this way- but he was trying to take a lesson from Tweek and let himself feel things. “Ugh, look, I’m not good at this, but I really like…. Talking to you? I know it doesn’t make sense, I’ve been a dick- I am still a dick-, but I want to keep getting to know you and I can’t do that if you don’t let me.” He looked around, trying to save himself from putting the blame on him. That wasn’t his intention. “I know I can be difficult, and I’m not trying to blame you for this because honestly it was probably all me.” He began rubbing his hands on his face. Tweek absorbed this information, ticking away and trying to calculate the risk involved. The nostalgia of their past softened his decision.

“You can give me a ride home.” It wasn’t much, but it let him step in partially and he was willing to work his way in. Craig was a river of words. He was in a weird place right now. He hadn’t opened up to someone or felt that concerned about being shut out for the most part of his limited years on this earth. Most of it was about minor details, the way his day went, stupid stuff he saw his friends do at lunch, how he couldn’t believe the way teachers just did not care. Tweeks’ house came up faster than he wanted, and as much as he wanted to beg or manipulate a way into spending more time, he thought it was best not to push it.

“I will see you tomorrow? Movie club after school?”

“Yeah. I’ll see you then.” He hadn’t moved, sitting in the front and unbuckling himself, but continuing to sit and stew. There was a wall between them, and Craig couldn’t tell what was going on inside. He shifted gears into park and turned off his car for a moment. Tweek softened. A vulnerable action. “I really trusted you.” This was a real thing. Panic plagued his eyes and Craig was anything but dull. He was instead a vast array of bright clashing colors that didn’t go well together, his mindscape slathered in shades only existing in theory and not reality. It was all overwhelming.

“I shouldn’t have said geocaching was dumb, I’m-“

“-this isn’t about that. I trusted you when I told you that, and it was really hard for me. After you told them it was really hard for me and you just ran away.” Tweek was whispering now, anything louder would have caused a change in what he was willing and not willing to say. Craig looked at his hands in shame.

“I know. I’m sorry.” Moments passed. His hands were shaking now, and his lids barely kept in a full brim of tears.

“You don’t have to get close to me out of guilt. I’ve moved on, I have different friends now, and I don’t need to rely on you,” Tweek emphasized, “But if you do decide you want to keep pushing through this, you’re going to have to put in the effort. And realize when I need space.” Craig nodded, looking out the window and wiping his face with his sleeve.

Movie club was cancelled, but that didn’t mean the actual event was. Dylan, Ethan, Georgie, and Henrietta were all planning on having it in Henriettas’ basement. Tweek was, as usual, invited. He had taken a nap after school, waking up to a cornucopia of messages. Some were from the group text he was in with all of them, he had two from the group message of his parents, and one from Craig.  He sleepily rolled on his side, an old stuffed animal dog hanging out between his arms as he fiddled through his phone. His parents were at yet another conference. This was their busy time, they had been working on a new product and the pitches were going well. It was weird how that had worked out over the years, the differences and similarities between…. He stopped that thought before it could be completed, checking out the message from Craig, who was suggesting they continue to hang out as schedule. If that was something he was into, that is. He ducked his head down to kiss the head of his childhood stuffed animal, sending the invite out to Craig and suggesting they walk over together from his house.

“So, uh, what do... they do?” Craig asked, motioning to Tweeks’ house.

“They’re also into food and food science, but a little more tea focused. They’re working on a line of alcoholic based tea, and trying to figure out how to make it a reality. They’re really big on spiritual journeys and that sort of thing.” Henriettas’ was only a few blocks down the road, so it didn’t take long. He snuck around the back, motioning for Craig to keep it down. Henriettas’ aunt was really chill most of the time, but she had a ridiculous work schedule and as of such would often go to bed early. It didn’t bother the group, they actually really appreciated all that she did for them, so it was more out of fondness and less of an annoyance.  A crowd of hellos circled, and more than four greeted them. Michael and Ravyn had come, with the addition of a couple of other more alternative folks. Couch space was filled and some had taken to the floor, a couple of bottles passing around. Georgie offered a plastic wine glass of green liquid, offering a second to Craig who took it for fear of appearing rude. The movie of tonight was Dark Skies. While there wasn’t much gruesome action, it was an uneasy movie. He looked over at one point and saw an unusual shininess to Tweeks’ cheeks. He thought it was a stale line of tears and was caught off guard to see that constant movement of water was still continuing, yet Tweek showed little symptoms of crying. There was only light sniffles, but his shoulders didn’t shake and his voice didn’t crack, his lips weren’t shivering, and his eyes remained open while fixated on the screen. He took another sip of absinthe. Craig pretended he didn’t see anything.

Evidence of Tweek crying was still apparent by the red of his nose and the unremoved saline trails. Craig cleared his throat, his heads full of clouds from the absinthe and thankful that it hadn’t been much.

“What did you think of the movie?” He started, toying with the idea of smoking. But not committing.

“So good, alien movies… always make me feel something.” Tweek mused, taking a couple of steps, “Sometimes I feel like I’m an alien.” Craig raised an eyebrow, aware of him wiping away the moisture.

                “How do you figure?”

                “Well, I just feel like, maybe I wasn’t meant for this world. Not in like, a suicidal ‘I want to die’ way, but more of like… maybe there’s not a place for me to exist.” He kicked a pebble along. They continued quietly for a little bit, Craig striking a cigarette and doing what he did best. He blew out, hand falling to surprise. An unfamiliar touch grazed his hand, looking down and seeing Tweek gingerly tugging on the cigarette. Craig let go, allowing Tweek a puff. He reached up to put the cigarette back between Craig’s lips. The gesture in and of itself was intimate. That combined with the late night confession contributed to the atmosphere of gentle behavior. It felt as if they were in a liminal space. “Want to come in?” Craig nodded, putting out the cigarette and tossing it away.

                Tweeks’ room was unusual. He walked through the dark and plugged in his warm white lights mixed with strands of multicolored Christmas lights. His ceiling was painted with constellations, three of the four walls a cool gray and the one remainder, a chalk wall. Formulas for different things, sloppy handwriting, and sketches of some deep sea creatures mixed with theoretical diagrams took up most of the space. There was also some goofing off in various handwritings, some quotes from the goths and who he assumed to be others that Tweek was friends with.  His bed was neatly made, black and grey pillows laying on top of a fluffy (DEEP PURPLE) comforter. He had a vanity next to his bed filled with what appeared to be a variety of crystals, dried flowers, and dead bumblebees that had probably been picked off the ground. Plants decorated the room and gave a fresh sense. It seemed like there was external forces working in this room and Craig had rarely felt more comfortable, or as intrigued. On top of his dresser laid vases of dried up roses mostly, small black and blue speakers placed near.

                Tweek did a dance to get his shoes off, placing his body on the bed with a tender sense of care for his wellbeing that Craig did not think was possible prior. Craig stood, unsure of what to do, but taking the leap to sit in the chair by the vanity, now noticing the scraps of papers with words he sure had meaning to them, and what appeared to be shortened poetic lines. Tweek stared at his ceiling in thought.

                “There’s glow in the dark paint on my ceiling and some old stars on my ceiling. But I forgot to open my blinds today,” He commented, touching the soft edges of his shirt. They stared at the ceiling for a good while, both too inebriated to make much sense of artificial factors like the time.

                “I’m still sorry.” Craig whispered. He didn’t look over, hoping that Tweek would let it go or pretend he didn’t hear that. He heard the rocking of the bed and the slippery sounds of sheets moving. Tweek was lying on his side, eyes deep and abyssal. His mouth had gone dry and he was moving his tongue around to create moisture.

“What do you mean?”

                Emptiness followed.

                “I didn’t stick around when you needed me.” Tacking on an excuse would have been cheapened his sincerity, while also adding verbal protection. Being sorry without an excuse got his nerves up. Tweek sat up, and he was noticing that those eyes were now pulling apart his skin and watching the tissue move under them. They were analyzing and searching for the validity in this statement. His throat quivered when he swallowed, hands feeling cold and eyes threatening him. He could only bully them back for so long.

                “I forgive you.” And that was it. Craig lost it, his eyes pouring out sadness and the points in his eyes showing a deep sense of tragedy that surely had no end. It was ugly. He was ugly. He heaved, standing up and walking to the far corner of the room, arms held up and blocking off his face as if to shield himself. Snotty sniggles ensued. He was trying to make words sound but every time he opened his mouth, choking noises emitted instead. He felt a soft arms ghosting over his shoulder and allowed Tweek to herd him to the bed. The sensory overload made him physically stunted. The wiring of his brain was shot. It was up to Tweek to guide him through the motions, using small touches to usher him onto the bed, climbing on after and pulling Craig’s head to his chest as he laid on his side. And then he let Craig cry. The caring palm rubbing his back brought in another wave of pent up misery that was finally allowed to surface. Craig curled up, feeling like a child. Tweek was his tour guide during this process. He didn’t let go until minutes after the last spell. Craig’s face was gray, his eyes red and the lines under them showing the emotional exhaustion that came from the whole situation. Tweek tapped him, letting him know he was planning to move. He held up one finger, communicating that he would be back. He returned with a box of tissues and a waste basket. He resumed his position.

                Tweek was frequently the more caring person in his friend group, this wasn’t his first time soothing someone through a cry session. He was always flattered that people found him comfortable enough to cry into. Craig felt too much relief to be embarrassed.

                “If you hadn’t told anyone, I don’t know where I would be right now. Sometimes… I used to wake up and hate what you did. But mostly, I’m thankful,” Tweeks’ voice was rough and full of cracks. Now it was Craigs’ turn.

                “If you want to tell me about it, I’ll listen. I know I wasn’t there then, but I would like to be here now,” The sat side by side now, “If you don’t want to, I won’t make you.” Tweek shook his head in response.

                “My actual counselor said the more I talk about it, the less power it has over me.” Granted, he had talked about it a lot. But he craved the intimacy they used to have. Things were different now, but they were better. “The trial… was a lot. They weren’t supposed to talk to me, the police put in a restraining order. Which is crazy to think about, I mean, a restraining order, against…” He started, no matter how many time he tried to say it, and this part was always where it got rough. “They wouldn’t stop harassing me though. After each session, and during them. At one point they were almost kicked out.” He started smiling out of reflex. Craig made a motion to put his arm around Tweek as he had done to him, but was met with a shake of the head. He understood, hands falling to his lap. “My parents were really awful people,” He laughed, not having nearly as many tears surface as Craig had, “The parents I have now, they’re better definitely. It was hard at first, but now it’s been like… seven years? And they haven’t done anything but support me. They gave me a lock on my door and the first two and a half years all I did when I got home was hang out in here except for meals. Now I can sleep without locking the door, and I never thought that I would be that comfortable, or that it would be something I had to think about.” The smile this time had went from heartbreak induced to pure bliss.

                “I’m glad you have that now.” Craig said, and he meant. He had seen the papers, everyone had. Tweek couldn’t be named because of his minor status, but everyone local knew. It had even been picked up by the bigger news stations, and there was talk of a lifetime movie being made until Tweeks’ new foster parents at the time threatened to sue. The horror of what was happening in the small mountainous town, with essentially low scale human trafficking mixed with drugging their child. It was hardly short of a horror movie. As sick as it was, Tweek had been lucky that it hadn’t gone on longer. Craig was one for keeping secrets until that moment.

                “I’ve even had a boyfriend for a little while, and now when I sleep, I mostly dream of better things.”

                “I didn’t know you dated someone,” This would have been interesting to know. Was he currently seeing someone?

                “For almost a year, he was in the next town over and I met him at an lgbtq conference. We’re still friends.” Tweek segwayed into a more comfortable topic. He rolled over to the inside of his bed, Craig taking the outer most portion. The laid facing each other with their limbs a healthy distance apart. “Have you dated anyone?”

                “A little here and there, but nothing that stuck more than three months tops. A year is impressive.” Craig threw off his hat, fingers tracing the ruffles of Tweeks’ pillows. He nodded, thinking it over.

                “At this point it seems almost pointless to try and date someone since everyone’s trying to go to college soon. Not like that’s stopped me from wanting to.”

                “Is there someone you’re interested in?” Craig asked, met with another halfhearted shrug.

                “I’ve thought about it, but I could go either way. Dating is fun, and there’s still a couple months left, but also it depends on what comes my way.” There was some shifting as Tweek pulled out his stuffed animal from when they were younger, his drunkenness tapering off. He closed his eyes, feeling tired without the aid of his sedatives.  “Do you like anyone?”

                “I’ve thought about it. There’s some people who I wouldn’t mind.” Craig followed suit, the comfort of his bed and the honesty refreshing. Tweek didn’t push.

                “If you want to spend the night you can. You’re still drunk and driving seems like a bad idea. You’re in charge of turning off the lights, though.” Tweek got more comfortable, rubbing his nose on the matted fake fur of his dog, Craig did so, the stars above them sheltering them with a safe green glow. They slept without touching, but the effect of it was about the same.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments, compliments, all very appreciated c:

                The next term, they had been taken out of group counseling. Craig and Tweek were now back to hanging almost to the same amount that they had been before. Their friend groups were now used to regular appearances of one or the other, and while the groups themselves really did not hang around that often, they were tolerable when needed. Tweeks’ band was gaining traction in the winter months while people needed something to do and being outside was less of an option. Time passed and Tweeks’ birthday passed, by mid-February things were looking good. Tweek gave Craig motivation to apply for colleges and Craig helped Tweek expand his musical outreach. It was a usual Saturday for the two- breakfast followed by general hangouts that usually involved writing lazy songs without any words attached. They flirted with the idea of doing a two person acoustic band, but neither had fully committed to the idea. Snow covered any memory, no matter how brief, of what the ground underneath might have looked like. Night time came eagerly, earlier and earlier. Something about the cold made the stars crisper.

                “What are you doing for spring break?” Craig asked, picking away at his own guitar. He was stationed cozily on his bed with the space heater pointed closer to Tweek than himself. Tweek was currently practicing hamerons and inverse finger picking. The nails on his right hand long.

                “I’m not sure yet. What are you going to do?”

                “I don’t know either. Would you want to hang out?”

                “That would be nice. The café might start having me work a little more, but I can schedule you in.” He smiled, eyes twinkling. Craig swore he could die when he saw that smile frequent their conversations.

                “I’m surprised you haven’t quit your job yet to become a full time pong player.” Craig mused, the same smile finding a home on his face. It was as if they thought the other was so clever, even on matters as non-specific as this.

                “You’d miss me too much.” Tweek winked, Craig returning it. They often joked that they had a winking problem. It had come up when they were drunk at some given point. It was a casual flirtationship that likely had no grounds as far as Tweek was concerned. But he could never tell if the signs he saw in Craig were signs at all or just wishful thinking. He was happy to exist in any facet whether as a friend or as a lover. The rest of the day consisted of more fooling around with music before fading out into the other series of days they were used to. Time was comfortable. It was the last two days before spring break that something new came up. Tweek had slipped a note to him during class.

                ‘Are you going to prom?’  Craig read, considering a response.

                ‘No’

                ‘You should, it’ll be fun. This could be the last time.’ Tweek slid it back, watching the clock moments for the bell rang. They had differing periods for the remainder of the day, reconvening in statistics. Craig had held on to the note and little else had entered his mind.  Thirty minutes remained.

                ‘Would you want to go to prom with me?’

                Tweek wrote quickly, and Craig held his breath for how fast the response was. His pencil hardly moved, so likely it was either a yes or a no. Luckily for him it was the former. Tweek was busy the first few days of break, in between band practice and work, he really hadn’t been that available. That, or he was making an effort to avoid Craig. He had no complaints, since he had been around Clyde and Token most of that time, and it gave him time to catch up in video games. He figured he ought to make a move.  He sent Tweek a snapchat of his most recent score. If they weren’t together, they had a habit of taking pictures of where they were and filling the other in on the location. It was fun to see the differing spaces they occupied, while the theoretical time overlapped. Minutes passed and he was greeted with a picture of Dylan holding up his middle finger behind the drums. Craig sent a text this time.

                ‘Want to hang out this Wednesday?’

                ‘Maybe. What will we be doing?’ Craig read the message and put his hands over his face, rubbing the skin as he debated his next action. He knew Tweek would hang out with him even if they did nothing.

                ‘I’ll take you on a friend date. Idk. What do you want to do?’

                ‘Go on a real date.’

                Craig threw his phone away from his body as if it’d burst into flames if he looked at it for too long. That had escalated way faster than he was thinking. He got up, pacing the room and trapped in his head. Was it a joke? They flirted a lot as friends but he thought maybe that’s just where they were and that was the limit. He’d be a liar if he said he hadn’t been pining for Tweek the more they got to know each other. He was alerted with another text vibration, running over to his phone.

                ‘You can say no, I don’t mind. (:’

                ‘That’s fine. What should we do?’ Craig couldn’t believe this was happening. He was going on a date. Or, he thought he was, this still seemed like it could have just been a heightened level of friendship flirting.

                ‘Ice skating maybe? The rink at Stanley’s is open till 11, you can pick me up at 9.’

                He was glad Tweek was telling him what he had to do. He eventually texted back an ok, the rest of his thoughts relating to what to wear and what to do. After two days straight of worrying, excitement, and various conversations with Clyde about how gay was too gay and appropriate manners, Craig was sitting in his car outside of Tweeks’ house with his finger over the send button.

                ‘here’

                He got out, walking up to Tweeks’ door and knocking for good measure. He held a carnation in one hand, his phone in the other as he pretended to be casual in case Tweek saw him.   The door noisily opened and he put his phone in his back pocket. Tweek was never bad at dressing. His pale green pants flowed well with his black shirt, decorated with a white band logo and red flourishes. On top of that was an oversized purple sweater that gave almost a spiritual aura. He stepped out while putting his arms in a gray jacket with a fur hood. Craig had a slightly different approach, and while his color scheme was muted it was on the lighter side of things. His gray jeans cuffed at the end, a navy blue button up with small white boats decorating his body. He was wearing a black cardigan. Severely underdressed for being outside, but his car was too hot for a jacket and he’d only be out for a few minutes.

                “You look nice. I got you this.” Craig said, handing him the carnation.

                “Thanks. You look nice too. Hold up.” He ducked back in emerging less than five minutes later in. They went to their destination. Ice skating for the residents of South Park was a natural experience. Some regions had swimming, others had hiking, for them it was ice skating. Craig didn’t know what to expect, but was thankful with the familiarity. Their conversations progressed as usual. The only difference seemed to be in name.

                “Could I hold your hand?” Tweek asked, motioning to said body part. Craig nearly fell. That would make sense, they were on a date. He guessed it wasn’t that inappropriate. They interlaced appendages. They skated for the rest of the hour and went back to Craigs’, Tweek using his laptop to map out their zodiac charts. Craig was laid out on his bed, tossing a tennis ball out in the air while Tweek sat on the couch and explained what a Venus sign was. Comfort found knowing that the forces of something larger influenced things smaller.

                “Wanna make out?” Craig interrupted, casting his gaze over to him. Tweek stopped, staring into the blank plain of Craigs’ wall. It would be nice. But also it could go terrible. Their kissing style could be awful in terms of compatibility. If Craig was too soft, if would feel like he was kissing a mushy banana. If it was too stiff, he wasn’t sure if how much he could pretend it was okay. He didn’t want to ruin his image of Craig, nor did he want to do the same to him. There was only so much that the stars could tell him, and while he like Craigs’ Scorpio sun and Sagittarius venus, he had to decide if he wanted to risk ruining the fantasy.

                “Yeah I’m interested.”

                They sat in a silence so thick that Tweek could feel it rising to his neck. They both made moves, Tweek standing in front of Craigs’ bed and Craig sitting on the edge of his bed, looking up and the two trying to figure out how this was going to work. They had kissed other people before. But the intensity of the moment put them in a daze. Tweek leaned down to kiss his forehead. A bold move. The internal assembly of his chest muscles squeezed sharply. Their hands struggled to find a place to be, causing snorts and soft laughter. Eventually, Tweek took the jump. He shut his eyes and kissed him again. This time, where it counts. It was livable. They shared shy kisses mixed with a few of especially confident movements. Tweek sat next to him. A few more smooches being exchanged. They both laid back, separating and staring half-heartedly at one another. Craigs’ hand had reached out to toy with Tweeks’ hay colored hair.

                “That was nice.”

                “I agree.” They laid for a few, enjoying the lull. They fell into the now regular habit of sleeping an arms distance away, Craigs’ hand resting in his hair for the night.

 


End file.
